


cherry bomb

by darlenedytee



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Drinking, Fluff, Humour, M/M, No Angst, One Shot, Pining, Recreational Drug Use, all fluff no angst, bill and stan are saints, but like they basically are, eddie and richie aren't together yet in this fic, i really can't believe i finished this i never have the motivation, kinda real crackhead energy coming from all angles, the losers are all best buds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 18:01:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20568551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlenedytee/pseuds/darlenedytee
Summary: “What the hell are you guys doing?” Richie laughs out, shocked. As Beverley does what he assumes to be a somersault.Eddie launches himself into a half-assed cartwheel, before literally landing on his ass and facing Richie to say “Gymnastics.”Richie nearly cries he laughs so hard.





	cherry bomb

**Author's Note:**

> hey so this is my first one shot, or really fic in general. not that I haven't made others, but i've never posted my work before. I really hope you enjoy it, I worked really hard on this.
> 
> I don't think theres any warnings to really put, but there is recreational use of marijuana, and use of alcohol in this fic. Also a warning for swearing.

“Beep beep fucker, let’s go!” Richie hears a familiar voice yell from the front seat of Stan’s car.

“Awe, Billiam. Ya really know how ta’ make a lass like me swoon.” Richie says in a southern belle, making his way down the walkway. “Really, you prove chivalry is all but dead.” 

Richie’s lashes flutter, and he hears a “Oh fuck off, get in the car.” from Stan in the drivers seat.

Richie makes his way up to the side door, and when he yanks it open, he’s greeted by the jaded faces of Mike and Ben. 

“Sorry for the wait,” Richie starts, settling himself down beside a definitely stoned Mike. “You know how long it takes for an ol’ gal like me to get all spiffied up.” He grins, looking to find a joint. 

“S’gone Richie, you can take a hit off the next one.” Mike explains knowingly. Richie grimaces but nods, rolling down his side window. All to Stan’s dismay.

“No. No windows.” Stan chastises, going to close it.

“I swear to God I will stick my hand out this window, and when you sever it, I will sue you.” Richie argues, staying true to his word and flailing his right hand outside the vehicle. Daring Stan to test how serious he’s being.

“You’re an idiot.” Stan says, groaning. But he relents, leaving the window open and beginning to drive.

“So where's our dear old Miss Marsh and Kaspbrak?” Richie asks.

It’s Ben who responds, turning to face Richie. He’s not nearly as high as Mike or Bill. His eyes don’t really look red at all. He’s probably only taken a hit at most. If even that. “Beverley’s at her place, and were picking Eddie up at work.” He explains offhandedly. 

“Yeah,” Stan adds. “I was talking to Eddie earlier. Betty called in sick to work last minute, so they made him work late.” 

“No way she’s sick, though.” Bill sneers, “I saw her at the diner on Maple Street with Harold Buckley about an hour ago sucking face.”

Richie scoffs. “Always hated her.”

“We all do.” Bill says, “I literally drive the extra fifteen minutes to a different pharmacy so I don’t end up having to run into her there. No offence to Eddie, of course. But he’s not worth going there, if it means I still have to deal with her.”

“And that’s sayin’ something.” Richie adds, smirking. He can’t see him, but Richie can feel Stan roll his eyes.

Eventually, they make it to Beverley’s street and pull up to the red building. Mike makes a remark about texting her that they’re here, and Bill starts talking about that one time Stan jumped off a roof.

“I can’t believe we actually got you to do it.” Bill laughs at Stan’s displeased face.

“It was dumb. We were way too hammered that night.” He sighs disapprovingly at the memory.

“Oh please,” Richie starts, “It was fun! Plus, you were jumping onto a trampoline, what's the worst that could have happened?”

“Um, a lot, Richie!” Stan quips, turning to face him. “What if I missed the trampoline?”

“But ya didn’t!” Richie argues, laughing as Stan’s eyebrow twitches.

“Whatever,” He scoffs, “When you end up hurting yourself, I won't feel bad.”

Richie’s face is full of fake shock, and he’s about to speak before Ben changes the subject as the complex’s front doors open. “Bev’s here” 

Bev is in fact, here. She walks out wearing a black fitted top, with high waisted green jeans. And an old leather jacket thats been through a little too much is draped on her shoulders.

She’s on the phone talking to someone as she opens the door to the car, shooting a grin towards the group. Stan instinctively turns down the music. “Yeah, we’ll meet you at the front, be there in around five minutes.” Bev says into her cell, squeezing past Richie to sit on the floor in the middle of the car in front of Mike. “Mkay. Yup of course. Bye Eddie.” She waits for a response, then ends the call. Leaning her head back onto Mike's knees. “Hey guys,”

A chorus of Hey Bev’s ring through the car, along with a “Hey Miss Marsh.” coming from Richie.

“Eddie finished five minutes ago, he’s just closing up, then he’ll be good to go.” She says, flicking her lighter on and off.

“Alright,” Stan says, starting to drive as Bill turns up the radio, reaching to mess with the stations.

Stan looks like he’s about to chastise him, but visibly pulls back, instead he watches Bill’s expression change from that of contemplation to joy. Richie smirks at the gesture, but says nothing. 

“Guys, remember this?” Bill says, cranking up the volume to double what it was before.

Mike’s face goes from that of confusion to shocked excitement in seconds. Mike quickly sits up straight so he can bob to the music. The rest of the losers follow suit and perk up seconds after.

_hello daddy_

_hello mom_

_i’m you're_

_ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb!_

A memory passes through the group of a night at a bar six months prior. Beverley and Eddie had decided late into the night, and deep into shots, that they were truly meant to be a singing duo. They both wobbled onto the stage, and when the beat rang through the building. The losers had cheered so loud Richie had trouble hearing the next day.

It was the night Richie knew he’d loved Eddie for a long time. The night he realized Eddie would never, could never, be a temporary thing.

Eddie had bounded around the stage, screaming the lyrics at the top of his lungs with Beverley, who danced along with him, just as invested.

When they were done the performance, Eddie had ran off the stage to grab Richie by the shoulders. 

“That was so much fun!” He screamed. His curly hair bobbed when he'd spoken, and his words had slurred a little.

“I’m glad, Eds.” Richie murmured.

Later that night, they walked home. Eddies hand swinging in Richie’s as the trekked along the sidewalk.

They never really spoke of that night, or that kind of stuff. It was the in-between. The things that weren't black and white, were the things they kept quiet. 

Beverley talking pulls Richie out of his memory. “I’m just saying, in another life Eddie and I definitely wrote that song.” She says, finally actually lighting her cigarette.

“Come on Bev, now my cars gonna smell like shit.” Stan complains, a frown on his face. Bill laughs at Stan’s grumpy look, muttering a faint “Cute.” that makes Stan turn back around to face the steering wheel, cheeks tinged pink.

The next five minutes are filled with mindless chatter, until the group pulls up at the pharmacy. Eddie is already outside, arms wrapped around himself tight, as if to shield himself from the cool air. As soon as he sees the group, he hurries himself up to the vehicle, swinging open the door to find no seats readily available.

Richie is ready to be a prick and annoy Eddie with the suggestion of sitting on his lap. But he’s shocked into silence when Eddie says a shivering “Hey guys,” taking a seat on Richie without any needed persuasion. 

He acts like its nothing, though. And so do the rest of the losers. Richie supposes it is. (It's not.)

“I’m so fucking cold.” Richie begins to tune into Eddie complaining. “And hungry. I haven’t eaten since noon. _Noon_.” He enunciates, pulling out his phone to stare at the time. “It’s ten o’clock!” He shrieks, letting out a groan, leaning back against Richie. “I deserve a raise.” He grumbles, crossing his arms.

Ben sympathizes with Eddies complaints, and they begin talking about Ben’s job at the library. Richie’s brain goes to mush as he feels Eddies back pressed firm against his chest, but he tries to ignore it. Instead, talking to Bev and Mike about the pot he brought.

Fifteen minutes pass, and they find themselves at a club. There are a few nearby, but Bill assures them this is the best one. Richie wouldn’t know, it’s been a while since he’s gone out like this, and he usually only ever goes to the one a block away. It was never great, but a club is a club.

“Shots?” Bill suggests as soon as they walk in, and the group readily agrees. Except for Stan, who purses his lips. Groaning something about not dealing with their nausea later.

So they all trek up to the bar, and Bill orders their first round of tequila. 

“Why tequila?” Ben groans, disapprovingly. “It smells like hand sanitizer.”

“Ben, you don’t get an opinion. You think rum and coke is hard liquor.” Bev jokes, laughing at the memory of Ben getting drunk off two cups of the stuff the first time they drank at her place.

“I hadn’t eaten anything that day!” Ben argues, cheeks tinged pink.

Beverley just keeps laughing, singing out “Excuses, Excuses!”

Eventually, the shots come, and Bill holds his up to make a toast. “To surviving another year in this hellhole disguised as a university.” He says, as the others agree and down their shots.

Richie turns to Eddie as soon as he’s done his, and cant help but laugh at the sour look on his face. Richie immediately goes to pinch his cheeks, “Cute! Cute! Cute!” He coos as Eddie swats him away, quickly recovering. 

“Fuck off, Trashmouth.” He says, “I can do shots.” He assures him, seriously. And Richie tries not to laugh, nodding along with Eddie until his face breaks and he starts laughing again. “Im serious!” Eddie argues, displeased. “I just don’t like tequila. I bet I could handle more rye than you could.” He challenges, face full of seriousness.

“Eds,” Richie starts, “Lil’ Eddie spaghetti.” He laughs, shaking his head at the request. “Let’s see, shall we? You haven't eaten today, and i’m twice your size. Do you _really_ think you could handle more rye than me?”

“I do.” Eddie crosses his arms, eyebrows raised. “If you're too scared, go ahead and back out.” Eddie purses his lips.

“Fuck that, Kaspbrak.” Richie bangs his fist on the counter, making Eddie laugh. “Let’s do this shit.”

——-

Eddie, cannot do shots.

To be fair, Richie has lost count of how many they've done. But this is their third hour at the club, and every little while Eddie or Richie will order shots, and shove one in the opponents hand. 

Honestly, Richie’s pretty impressed. Not to say Eddie shouldn’t have tapped out a while ago, though. He was definitely _way_ drunker than Richie. And Richie was pretty fucking hammered.

But, Eddie was strong willed. So despite his wobbling and slurring, he kept going. Richie was bordering on slightly concerned. But it was alright, he could tell they’d be heading back soon. Stan has been looking like he's ready to leave for the past half hour.

Bill, was probably the second most hammered. Mike didn’t really like drinking, so every once and a while Richie would sneak out back with him and Bev, and they’d pull out a joint for a bit before heading back in. Stan, sat at the bar with Ben. Ben worked tomorrow, so he was being smart as to not overdo it, and Stan seemed to appreciate the company.

But now, Ben was gone to the bathroom, and Richie can't help but snicker as Bill speaks to an unnerved Stan, saying something in his ear that made his cheeks turn pink. Richie turns away from the scene, opting to give them their privacy.

Eventually, about half an hour later. Stan walks up to him, Bill in tow behind. “Were gonna head out, can you find Mike and Eddie? I think Mike’s somewhere inside, and I’m pretty sure I saw Beverley and Eddie head out back a little bit ago. 

Out back? That was weird. Eddie didn’t smoke pot. It made his asthma spike, and he said it smelt like ass.

Richie walks around inside the club for a bit, aimlessly searching for Mike, and when he turns to see him talking to Bill Stan and Ben at the door, he groans in frustration. _How had he missed that?_

So, with Mike found, he begins a trek to the backdoor of the club to hopefully find Beverley and Eddie. He’s curious to say the least. The air was cold and if Eddie wasn’t smoking, he didn’t really see a reason for him to ever want to be outside.

What he opened that door to, was not what he would have ever expected.

“What the hell are you guys doing?” Richie laughs out, shocked. As Beverley does what he assumes to be a somersault.

Eddie launches himself into a half-assed cartwheel, before literally landing on his ass and facing Richie to say “Gymnastics.”

Richie nearly cries he laughs so hard.

______________

The walk to where Mike parked his car is cold, and long. And when Eddie nearly lands flat on his face for the second time, Richie turns to him and says. “Piggyback?” To which Eddie happily agrees, placing his hands on Richie’s shoulders, and jumping up in a swift motion to wrap his legs around his waist.

Eddie’s light. Always had been. The denim jacket Richie shed to let Eddie wear as they walked out of the club was probably the heaviest thing on him.

Ahead, Ben and Mike are talking. Richie can’t tell what about, but it seems funny, so Richie laughs.

_God, maybe he’s a little more hammered than he initially thought._

Beverley is playing with her lighter again, which Ben keeps turning around with a concerned look to check on her about. It’s cute. They’re cute. 

Speaking of cute, Eddie definitely just passed out. He can feel the weight of the brunettes head against his shoulder, and his limp figure takes a little more effort to carry than before. Richie doesn’t wake him up, though. Wouldn't dream of it. Instead he catches up with Stan, who is holding a very inebriated Bill Denbrough’s hand.

Bill is going on a very animated discussion about his football teams off-season. And his hopes for next year. Stan very obviously doesn't understand what Bill’s saying half the time, but the fond look on his face tells Richie it doesn't really matter what Bill’s talking about anyway. Stan would be invested regardless.

“Well aren't you to just a pair a’ cuties.” Richie coos, nudging Stan in the shoulder. Stan, shoots him an exasperated look, eyeing the sleeping boy on his back.

“So Rich,” Stan starts, deadpan. “How long you been pining over Eddie again?”

It promptly shuts Richie up, and he goes to find Beverley so he can light up a smoke.

_____________

By the time they make it to the parking centre again, Eddie is awake, animatedly talking to Bill about how much he loves ice skating. 

“Yeah, I think I might join a club.” Eddie ponders, head still comfortably set on Richie’s shoulder.

“An ice skating club?” Richie snickers. “Is that a thing?”

Eddie thinks for a moment, “I’ll make it a thing.” Richie can feel Eddie smile against his shirt, and it makes the night chill disappear. 

“Alright,” Richie decides, “You do that.”

“I used to play hockey,” Bill adds, matter of factly.

“Really?” Stan says, “When? You never told me about that.” 

“For like, all of middle school and halfway through high school.” Bill says, and Stan looks shocked. His cheeks are red again, and Richie has to restrain himself from making a comment.

Once they make it to the car, the group finds themselves heading into the seats they had before. Bev seats herself down on the car floor, then makes a comment about it being her home.

Eddie, takes a minute to contemplate his choice, before taking a seat on Mikes lap, and turning himself around to lay down across everyone seating. His feat on Ben, head on Richie’s lap.

It makes Richie go soft, and he finds himself zoning out from the conversation. Instead, choosing to watch Eddie’s reactions. Not caring if Eddie sees him stare. He feels a little to buzzed to identify any reason not to, so he does.

“Hey, Rich?” He sees Eddie mumble. All the other losers seem to be caught up in their own conversations, and Eddie’s looking at him with a fond looks he’s not sure how he's supposed to feel about. 

“Yeah?” Richie whispers, tilting his head at Eddie.

“Love you.” He smiles, crinkling his nose at how cheesy it sounds. “Ha, sorry. But its true, ya’ know. I don’t say it a lot, but I do. Love you, that is.”

“Love you too, Eds.” Richie says, soft. And Eddie hums in approval as he says it. closing his eyes, and smiling.

“Oh my God, I love this song!” Bill says, which breaks Richie and Eddie out of the moment. Eddie’s attention shifts, trying to identify the song, before his face lights up.

“Awe, me too!” He agrees, pointing towards the radio. “Turn it up!”

Bill immediately goes to turn in up, singing along to the words way too loud. “So rock me mama like a wagon wheel, rock me mama any way you feel, HEYYYY MAMMA ROCK ME!”

Soon, the rest of the losers join in, including Stan, surprisingly. Who belts almost as loud as Beverley.

“ROCK ME MAMA LIKE THE WIND AND THE RAIN, ROCK ME MAMA LIKE A SOUTHBOUND TRAIN, HEYYYY MAMMA ROCK ME!”

The song plays through the car, and the losers open all the windows, letting the wind whip through as they scream the words. Bill is dancing in his seat, and Beverley is pretending she's holding a microphone.

It’s all very _them_ in essence. It’s what makes them timeless. No matter how old they get, Richie thinks they’ll always feel this young. Its comforting.

Eddie's eyes are closed as he sings, and his smile is so big its blinding. Richie doesn't stop belting, but he does place his hand over Eddies, who seems to get the message, and flips his over so their fingers can interlock.

The song eventually ends, but Richie’s pretty sure the moment exists in another world forever.


End file.
